In other news, I was rereading The Little Prince (Katherine Woods translation) for the first time since I was six or however old I was when I first picked it up. To be totally honest, I didn't think it was a compelling story at all the first time I read it. (I also didn't much like Coraline by Neil Gaiman the first time I read it either, because it, like The Little Prince, seemed like a book written by grown-ups who wanted to understand children but had a gross misunderstanding of how children worked.)So I was rereading The Little Prince while walking around a Korean supermarket and started crying.
I still think that neither The Little Prince nor Coraline is the kind of book that I would've fallen in love with as a child (I thought the former was just a queer little book with strange drawings and the latter was disappointing because Coraline wasn't as kick-ass as I wanted), but looking back at The Little Prince with more sorrow under my belt, it's really... lovely, the same way The Velveteen Rabbit is when you reread it as an adult.
Sweater: uncle's. Skirt: secondhand, gift. Tights: Forever21 + BP Nordstrom. Saddle shoes: Payless. — but when one flushes does that not mean "Yes"?
W1L 016: Write one leaf about a song you know by heart.
This is an unedited version of my original response to this prompt.
It’s funny how Jason Mraz’s “I’m Yours” became so popular when it wasn’t even intended for a serious release. It’s also funny how when I listen to it, I find it really hard to muster any anger or sadness or self-pity. Maybe it’s the relentlessly content melody strummed on a ukulele. Maybe it’s his bedroom voice. Maybe it’s the unapologetic wordplay.
Or, you know, maybe it’s the lyrics. Maybe it’s the total vulnerability and the offering, the I’m yours, the lack of pretense, the simplicity of what “I love you” is and does, and how it isn’t “Please love me back” but rather “You can hurt me.” How it is lying naked except maybe for a pair of socks, and spread-eagle, with a half-smile and heavy eyelids, ready to make slow, sweaty, condomless love to you and to the Universe. And how delicate human skin is, and how many pain receptors there are per cubic inch of flesh, and heart, and how being wide open and upward-gazing may not be the safest bodily orientation, but it is the most worth it, and trusting that nothing will hurt.
So basically, Jason Mraz is writing about S&M!
No, but it was a bizarre moment for me when I realized exactly what he meant by “I won’t hesitate no more / no more / it cannot wait / I’m yours” because I’ve only ever done it once, and it wasn’t even in a romantic context.
I mean. Surrendering. Falling in love. Of your own volition. Letting yourself. Which is to say, taking down the fortress built up around your heart, giving someone your imperfect, awkward insides, and having no fear of pain, because the other person needs to know that he is loved stupidly and without reservation more than you need to be protected. Because to love is to give with no agenda.
That’s what I thought at the time, anyway.
The more time passes, the less I try to delude myself into thinking that I know anything about anything.
But I am slowly coming into the realization that authenticity is worth so much more than pure ambition. Or at least, worth so much more to people.
I think I knew this already. I once chose “Honesty is everything” as my Policy For Life. But it isn’t just honesty. It’s eagerness, and not being bashful in your enthusiasm, and risking looking uncool and geeky.
I guess you could call it the importance of being earnest.
Besides, geeks are the ones who make change. If you don’t care about something enough to be completely stupid for it, what’s the point? That’s a half-assed unrelationship. Stop resisting and just fucking fall in love. I don’t care if you might have your heart broken. You will. You win some, you learn some, as Mr. A-Z might put it, but our time is short. This-a, this-uh, this is our fate. (Just say it.) I’m yours.
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